God of Dusk
by WhatTheHellHero
Summary: Ten years after Radiant Dawn, and Tellius is forming a blissful peace, minus a couple bandit gangs. What could fracture it? How bout a fanatic kingdom ruled by a tyrant, and a dark god who is literally an evil brother?
1. Chapter 1

God Of Dusk

God Of Dusk

**This is my big story, I have wanted to post this for a long time, but now I will just do it.**

**R&R! **

**Rated M for violence and… other themes.**

Prologue- The Teacher

Soft, lilting music drew through the trees. The flowers stood erect with magic, and the grass grew greener. The trees seemed to glow. The lyrics hung softly in the air, holding a promise of wonder and beauty.

The old heron smiled, and listened with rapt attention. He shifted his weight on the rock and closed his eyes. Inside his mind, he could see each note on an imaginary sheet. Unconsciously, he noticed the red swan above him seem to nod and laugh.

Suddenly, the boy stopped. "Teacher, look at that!" He pointed to the swan, eyes wide.

"Oh yes." He smiled as the swan thrust up its head in mock disgust.

"It's red!" And he looked down. "And we're white feathered." And then he remembered his manners, and said, "Oh, and black wings are common too!"

Lehran smiled again. "It's alright, you are correct in your thinking, they are not common. But I was given them, so I will not complain. Please, keep singing."

"Alright." He opened his mouth again and started the Galdrar of Rebirth, except without the true magical power. But the plants went crazy. They started wrapping around the rocks they were on.

Lehran resumed his concentration, keeping each note in mind.

_Always thinking 'bout those stupid songs. Can't he just concentrate on more than just notes and lyrics?_

_Soan, you should worry about yourself. All you do is fight._

_Hey, it's what I'm good at!_

_Well, poor Lehran is best at singing._

_Altina, I-I-- Ah forget it! Hey, Dhesinga, up for a round of four spades?_

…………_.. No…………………………………………………………….._

_Thank you Altina. I thought he'd never leave me alone._

_Don't worry about it, Lehran._

"Teacher? You're crying." Lehran broke from the trance, and realized there were tears down his face. The blue-haired, pale boy in a white tunic was staring back, not Altina, not Soan, not Dhesinga.

"I was just … remembering. Did you finish?"

"Yes."

"Ah, excellent. Now, we will continue on to history." The boy groaned, and sat up on the rock.

Lehran sat up, and began to talk. "Today's lesson will be about our goddess, Ashunera. Now, one day, the people of the world woke up to a strange noise. They rushed to the beaches of the land, and found a maiden. A maiden with red hair, and…"

Suddenly, the boy raised a hand. Lehran was startled. "Um, yes?"

"Why did the girl end up on the beach?" The boy asked.

Lehran was about to answer, but all he could say was, "I-I-I." In fact, he came to question that himself. He had always wondered about that.

A great cawing arose from the treetops, and wings were flapping. The cawing came up again, and the boy jumped up. "Father!"

Sure enough, down flew a great blue raven, two brown hawks, one a greenish colour, and two beautiful white swans. They came down to rest on the ground, and a white flash echoed. Standing there, was…

"Dad! Mommy! Uncle Reyson!" He laughed, a bubbly noise, and ran to the thin, fair woman heron; her blond hair lay out behind her.

"Hey kiddo!" A black dressed, big, and smirking man stepped up, raising his arms in a hug. The boy laughed, and wrapped his arms as best as he could around the man.

"Hello, Laes." The big heron stepped up, waving his hand.

"Don't forget about us, kid!" The hawk on the left said, eyes flashing.

"Shut up Janaff." Ulki said, straight and tall.

"Mommy, I've been having lots of fun with Lehran!" Laes said.

"Is that so?" Leanne said, her musical voice.

"Ah, you speak the New Tongue now?" Lehran asked, standing up from the rock.

"Yes, I think I finally got the hang of it. Ten years since the Tower of Order, and Nealuchi has been giving me more lessons since I moved in." Naesala laughed.

"Yeah, and what a blessing that we got the wedding done before "Uncle" could object!"

Reyson turned red. "For your information, I was busy with the bird kingdom _you_ neglected. And I approve of your…" He shivered. "Union."

Naesala grinned. "Sure. Anyway, we dropped by to pick up Laes. We are finally back after our much needed…" He coughed, and Leanne smiled, "Second honeymoon."

"You mean I can come back? YAH!" Laes jumped away from Naesala. "Bye, Teacher!"

"Good-bye, Laes." Lehran said sadly. The Raven changed back, as well as the swan. The boy hopped onto the raven's back. He spread his wings and took off, the swan looping behind him.

Reyson spoke up. "Honestly, whenever they bring that vacation up, I feel like I want to vomit."

Lehran turned. "Reyson, what did you want to say?" After the unification of the goddess, he had met the three young herons, as well as the king. Leanne was a fair girl, but attached to Naesala. Rafiel was the most like him, but he was at Hatari. Reyson had something of Lehran's old abilities, but he was a bit too fierce.

"Well, Tibarn wanted me to tell you that we are moving the location of your school."

Lehran gaped. "Again?"

Reyson nodded. "More and more areas are turning over to the Claw Gang, and we have to move this place to a safer area of the Serenes Forest."

Lehran stared down. "As soon as we are unified, we are accosted by fellow laguz."

Reyson nodded. "But, we have finally figured out their leader. Nain Grogero, a mature cat. We will have them soon."

He motioned for Janaff and Ulki. They all spread their wings, and flapped away.

Lehran was left alone again. He turned towards the red swan. It was gone.

"Goddess, Laes was right. What- what have you kept from me?"

He sighed, sat down on the rock, and whispered a Galdrar to himself.

**Sorry if I spelled Galdrar wrong, but all the sites I go to are in a mixed mind.**

R&R!


	2. Chapter 2

God Of Dusk

I know it says Caineghis was supposed to give his kingdom to Skirmir immediately, but this is for the sake of my story.

**Some other Character Ending will be overthrown for this story.**

**Rated M**

PART ONE: Sabotage and Ties

Chapter One: Disturbing Links

Skirmir folded his arms, and watched the capital city of Gallia at work from an outlook. The stone building sweltered in the amazing heat, but the laguz took no notice. Encased in armour of fur, the beast laguz worked blissfully and quickly.

Skirmir smiled. Today was the day that all of this, the forest, the city, the country, would be his. Today was the day that he would accept the crown from his uncle's head, and become a leader. A king.

"Like what you see?" A calm voice remarked behind him. Skirmir turned, and saw his blue-furred friend and aide, Ranulf. The laguz warrior had grown a bit in ten years, now a bit taller and bulkier.

"If I didn't, I would be in trouble." Skirmir's eyes glinted, and then he turned back. "Why are you here?" He asked in his deep voice.

"Ah. When Lethe is guarding something, she puts duty first, and my handsome face second. Plus, Lyre, if I talked to her, would hug me and call me pookums twice before I even get to my second syllable." Ranulf smirked. "I am a ladies man, guilty as charged." Skirmir rolled his eyes. Ranulf continued. "Anyway, I wanted to check up on our little prince!"

Skirmir clenched his fist. Ranulf stood firm, waiting for the blow that was to come. But instead, a chuckle.

"Is that really what people call me?" Skirmir shook his head, his face a merry smile. Ranulf gaped.

"Uh-sir…." But Skirmir put a hand out. His ears pricked up, and he pointed to a street in the city. A ring of laguz had formed around a cloud of dust. Inside the cloud, two cat laguz were brawling in their shifted forms, one green, and one brown.

Skirmir roared an eardrum splitting roar, and shifted into a red lion. It wheeled back past Ranulf, away from the cliff, then suddenly turned and rushed towards the edge.

Skirmir then pounced through the air, paws braced for landing.

Ranik's brown foe was currently on his back, clawing up green handfuls of skin. He yelped, and attempted to shake off his enemy. But the brown cat's claws were wound in tight.

The crowd around them chanted out "Kill! Kill!"

Ranik heard a loud thumping, and his ears hummed a low whine. He saw red….

Wait a minute. He had literally seen a flash of red, unruly fur. The green cat slid off his back, and Ranik's vision returned.

Standing there, in the middle of the street, was the prince of Gallia, a strong bulky man with red hair, Skirmir.

"My lord!" All the men said and bowed. However, Skirmir waved a hand.

"What had happened here?"

The green cat shoved a finger at Ranik. "Ee slashed up my waterskin!"

"Did not!" Ranik said defensively. "I only scratched it!"

Skirmir frowned. He then turned to the crowd. "How far is the nearest well?"

The question was odd, but one boy perked up. "About four disocs!"

Skirmir nodded, and then turned back to the two. "Tomorrow, you will report here for a task. You each will be laden with stones, and sent to the well. There, you will use the bricks to build up the well. Then, you will each make a fine waterskin for the other. Is that clear?"

The two grumbled. Skirmir smiled. "Good. Now, off with you."

Skirmir turned and walked away, motioning for Ranulf. A very puzzled blue cat strode up.

"Sir, what was all that about? I mean, why didn't you challenge them?" Ranulf was sincerely confused.

Skirmir's face hardened. "If the war ten years ago taught me anything, it's that senseless violence and death will only lead to chaos."

He gestured around him. "Can't you feel it? This world is changing. Begnion's senate has dissolved, now free to the young one, Sanaki. Daein and Crimea, thirteen years ago enemies, now share peace and prosperity. We can finally live freely in Gallia without beorc on our doorstep. Branded now are not shunned, but held highly, and they even live in a small country. This world is changing, and for the better."

Skirmir turned back. He began to walk, with Ranulf at his side, to the palace.

Drums were beat upon, and yells were heard throughout Gallia as Skirmir ascended the stairs to the palace. The long, staircase was built at the end of the marketplace proper, and lead up to the great stone hall of lions. Below him, thousands yelled in cheering praise.

He calmly walked up the steps, his heart pumping with pride. Above him, the two generals of the army stood by the doors, ready to open them. Lethe and Kyza, the most promising laguz in a decade.

He finally reached them, and he bowed his head. They both smiled, and pushed the mighty doors open.

Inside, a long blue carpet lay, straight up to the throne. On that golden chair sat Caineghis, now old, but still strong. Beside him stood his everlasting guardian Giffca, the shadow warrior. Even Ranulf was standing in the hall, a bit off to the side, but he was cheering the hardest. Everyone else had good standing with the King and Skirmir, although Skirmir wasn't too sure why Lyre was here. But, then again, judging how she carefully positioned her cheers to look like they were to the heir of Gallia, but really to Ranulf, it wasn't hard to guess.

Skirmir began to march to his rightful place on the throne, his spirits soaring ever higher. Eventually, he stopped, and knelled before his uncle.

The cheering drew to a standstill, the room now as silent as a grave. His uncle then stood up.

"My subjects, I have ruled for ages, and I hope I have ruled well." People began to cheer again, this time for Caineghis. However, Giffca beat a giant palm against the wall behind him, and all fell silent.

Skirmir noticed now, that behind him the doors were now closed, Lethe and Kyza on the outside, presumably to quiet the crowd in the market.

Caineghis spoke again. "However, my time is now done, and soon, poets will speak of my rule as those of old. We are not here to honour me, but my nephew, SKIRMIR!" The last word was roared out with such intensity that the hall vibrated. Cheering once again took place.

Giffca nodded, and Skirmir stood up again, drawing ever closer to the throne. Caineghis slowly drew the crown from his head, and Skirmir kneeled again.

He felt the crown hover over his head, and his heart began to beat triple its usual rate.

However, he heard something unusual. There was a slight thud, barely audible. Then… screaming.

Caineghis suddenly stopped in place. Skirmir sat up, turning to the door. All eyes were now on the wooden slab.

They waited there, one second… two….

All erupted.

The door was suddenly blown apart, wood chips flying away in every direction. Then, two bodies were casually flung inside the hall.

"LETHE!" Ranulf roared somewhere close by. Lethe and Kyza, previously two proud sentinels, now lay on the stone floor, Lethe was a gash on her forehead, and Kyza with a bloody slash down his side.

Ranulf and Lyre immediately ran into the centre, each to tend to the wounded. Ranulf slung Lethe over his shoulders, and Lyre dragged Kyza to the side.

And then, at that moment, strode in the biggest lion Skirmir had ever seen. This one, if compared to the mighty Dhesinga, would have been about half the great dragon's height. It was also black, not unlike Giffca's own colour. However, the eyes were blood red.

The lion walked in, shaking the stone with his great steps. No one dared to charge it. Behind Skirmir, Caineghis was now pale, and Giffca clenched his knuckles.

Finally, it stopped, in the middle of the chamber, and changed. In flash of white, it turned into the strangest laguz he had ever seen.

The thing now stood as tall as Giffca, and, indeed, might have looked like Giffca. However, the cold hard eyes of Giffca were replaced with wild, red irises that spoke of madness. The mane was unkempt, shaggy and unruly. His face was ragged, but lean.

The man smiled, and then bowed. "My dearest sympathies, brother Giffca. And my friend, Caineghis."

Skirmir turned his head, and saw Giffca's face turn into a furious expression, and his uncle's a surprised one.

Skirmir turned back, and, with as much anger as he could, roared out, "Who are you to interrupt this sacred ceremony?!"

The man ignored him. "My friend, when did it become custom for pups to speak against grown lions?"

Giffca stepped in front of Caineghis, using his whole body to cover the king. However, Caineghis waved him away. Giffca was reluctant, but slid over to let the king see the man. Caineghis then answered, "When did it become custom for traitors to come back to the living?"

The man laughed, humourless. "Apparently, my brother's claws do not penetrate as much as he thinks."

Giffca raised a hand, and examined his claws. "If you try your heresy again, I will rip your throat out, and carve your skin into a coat for beorc."

The man smiled. "Peace brother. I am not intent on throwing down, old, weak kings, but instead throwing out the new ones."

With this, the man turned to Skirmir. "You, pup. I declare you to be unworthy of kingship, and I wish to challenge to the ancient trial of combat."

The crowd gasped, but Skirmir stood strong. "What are the terms?"

"Upon the great rocks east of here," the man roared, speaking not to him, but to all. "We will fight for the crown… to the death."

Skirmir nodded. The crowd all silently mouthed the word, no. Skirmir instead tried to fortify his position. "You should know, now, that you fight one who has been blessed by the Goddess, Ashunera."

The man instead laughed. "Your goddess, you mean? HAH! She is weak. Now, my master is strong. No wonder Ashunera ran with her skirt up to her ankles!"

Skirmir raised an eyebrow. "Your master?"

The man shook his head. "I will be off now. Oh, and if you don't show up, I will kill every citizen in Gallia; I give you my word." The man pivoted and ran off, changing into a lion half pace. Skirmir hurried to the door, but the lion was gone.

Hours later, in the very same chamber, Skirmir approached the throne again, all feelings of happiness gone. His uncle and Giffca were the only other ones in the hall, the rest gone.

"Uncle…" He said tentatively. His uncle had spent the rest of the day brooding on the throne, kneading his forehead.

"Yes, Skirmir?" Caineghis said quietly, almost mournfully.

"Who was that laguz?" Skirmir replied, shocked over the appearance of that laguz.

"He was…." Skirmir then stopped talking. Giffca was silent as well. Skirmir stared at the two of them, then turned and stormed off.

A long time passed. Giffca cleared his throat, and then asked, "Caineghis, are you all right?"

"In truth, my friend, I am worried."

"About the… traitor?"

"No. Not as much as what he said…. When he said master, it reminded my of something my father said to me."

"What was that?"

"He told me that every lion king has been entrusted with this secret…. Every lion told of…. He said that Ashunera did not come to Tellius of curiosity, but by chance. He told me, that instead of coming to here… She was fleeing from something."

Lethe woke up in a groggy daze, mind flashing in black swirls. She opened her eyes slowly….

She was in a bed. That was the first sensation that crawled back to her mind.

Then, she perceived a noise. Snoring.

She turned to the side, and saw Ranulf sitting in a chair, snoring in his sleep. She then had time to process the information.

_I am in… his bed? He's doing this… for me?_

She then smiled.

Lyre hurried down the corridor, intent on seeing the physician. He had taken the wounded Kyza in as soon as the laguz was gone. Now she hurried to the room of the medical area.

Soon, she reached it, and flung herself inside.

Her first sight was Kyza lying peacefully on the bed, and the physician standing over him.

She opened her mouth to ask the question…. And then saw the larger details. The physician, an orange furred cat, had a grim look. And the body of Kyza… wasn't moving.

The physician confirmed her worst fears. "I'm sorry Captain Lyre. He is gone."

She stopped breathing for a minute. Then she burst out of the room, tears running down her face.

Kyza… was gone forever.

And that laguz would PAY.

**R&R!**


	3. Chapter 3

God Of Dusk

**Oh god, I am in hot water. As soon as this chapter is up, reviews will turn the water to boiling. Wait to see what I mean.**

Chapter 2: Traitor Ascending

They set the ring of combat up many times, but he never arrived. Skirmir cursed his luck. It was his luck to fight an enemy to the death that had bad punctuality. Skirmir growled and licked his claw.

He was standing in the large pit of sand, stripped to a pair of undergarments. This was to allow him better manoeuvrability during the battle, and that might just let Skirmir win.

It was true, he started having doubts. This enemy was massive, and strong, but also agile. This would be the first decent challenge since he had stormed the Tower. He also realized that despite his talk of peace and change, he relished the ability to fight blood to blood with an enemy. He loved this.

He had sneaked away from the palace, away from meddling consorts and guards, with only a handful of laguz to work on the pit. And a marvellous job they did.

The circle was perfect, torches set around the rim, and sand carefully laid completely in the round area. Beast laguz hated the sand, as it got into fur much, but the wolves had no problem, and it was probably not as bad a punishment as thought when a lion king sentenced them their for eternity. But for battles, it tested ones ability to fight an enemy, and stay agitated by the grains.

He roared out. "Where in Tellius is he?!" The man in charge of the pit turned to him.

"Sir, if he delays… you would win by default."

"And that is the only way you can win!" The responding roar came. Suddenly, the black lion jumped into the pit from nowhere.

The ground shook and the sand flew as the lion pawed the ground, its immense form taking up a quarter of the pit.

Skirmir nodded to the herald, and stepped into the sand. Above him, the sky ruptured, and began to shake out the roaring thunder.

The laguz herald walked up to the side of the ring. He roared, however feeble, and then listed, "The two, Skirmir and…"

The lion changed shape, and the laguz smiled. "You can call me Ropan."

"Ropan," The herald continued. "Will now engage in combat to the finish for the title of king!"

"SKIRMIR!" The remaining servants cheered, pawing the ground intensely. He waved them away.

Ropan glared. "After I kill you, they will die. Except the herald. I'll keep his torso so he can proclaim my victory. HAHAHA!"

The herald whimpered, but he weakly said, "Contestants, change!"

Ropan laughed maniacally as he changed form, saying, "This is the end for a little pup!"

Skirmir changed shape quickly, and, as the red lion, roared. His roar shook the earth, but Ropan did not faze. Instead, he made a deep chuckling.

"Contestants…" The herald said, beginning to shy away. "BEGIN!"

And the battle began.

Skirmir immediately braced himself to leap, but instead, he was nearly knocked out when the black lion charged, slamming into Skirmir and sending him flying.

Skirmir smashed into the edge of the ring, dazed. Above him, the sky suddenly broke its mumbling and wept, sending raindrops down heavily.

The red lion stood itself up again, shaking. Drops the size of rocks hailed down, prompting him to shake away sand and water.

The black lion began to stalk the groggy enemy, pawing the ground with massive legs. It growled a huge and ominous threat.

Skirmir turned to face his enemy, and this time simply leapt.

He descended through the air, claws outstretched, perfect for tearing out the neck of an enemy. He roared, ready to end the battle.

Ropan instead stood up on hind legs and swung a giant arm down, and it collided with the back of Skirmir.

Skirmir was blasted down by the full force, and fell into the ground with a bang. He knocked the breath out of himself, and lay at Ropan's feet.

Ropan roared, and suddenly extended massive claws, and shredded open Skirmir's back. Skirmir howled, his skin torn as easily as paper.

Ropan leaped backwards, and saw his damaged prey. The crowd was silent, and praying with the speed of light.

Blood seeped into the sand, and the rain only agitated the wound. He laid there, his vision a blur of red and smudge, his vision was swiftly fading.

Ropan roared. Skirmir, hating the noise, attempted to get up. With great difficulty, he stood on his legs, wavering, but still strong. He growled.

With blood whipping away, he broke into a run, mouth wide open. Ropan nearly stopped it, but Skirmir was emboldened, and he slammed into Ropan's side. With a huge bite, his teeth sank into the side of Ropan.

Ropan roared in pain, but try as he might, Skirmir had latched onto his flesh.

Skirmir's maw had sunk deeper and deeper into the flesh, but with one sharp twist Skirmir's back curled, and he let go. Skirmir flew again into the sand.

Ropan howled, stopping in place. He licked his wounds, while Skirmir stood up again. Every bone in his body aching, his back screaming, he charged again.

With a casual flick of his head, Ropan swung his head straight into Skirmir. The red lion flipped over, skidding to a halt. The black lion roared, and began to smash his enemy with massive strokes.

Skirmir screamed inside his head as his body was ruptured by the repeated smashing. Ropan, excited by the blood that so quickly flew away from that defeated form, pounded even harder, until a sharp crack made him stop.

Ropan stalked away, savouring the sight. Skirmir was lying on the ground, his body so crumpled that you could not distinguish his mane from his red blood.

Ropan roared as the crowd gaped, but he stopped when the red lion's legs quivered.

Slowly, the lion rose to his legs, looking so noble even with the many deformations that the crowd instantly cheered.

Skirmir raised his dignified head, and he roared out one last, horrible, great time.

Ropan roared, and nearly would have pounced.

However, fate had different plans.

Out of nowhere, an orange cat suddenly leaped onto the black lion. It was too fast for him to stop. The cat screeched, and began to slash viciously at the neck.

Ropan screamed, attempting to shake off the cat. But it was latched on, tearing at him with its claws.

It snarled, ripping away flesh and blood stained its lovely coat. Finally, Ropan smashed a paw against its petite form and it flew off.

The cat slammed into the ground, changing half way. In seconds, Lyre lay on the ground, a nasty scar on the back of her head. It extended all the way around, ringing her right eye with a faint line.

Skirmir whimpered, reaching a paw to her, but stopped when Ropan roared. He changed into the wild laguz, supporting his side, blood trickling down from his wound.

"You filth!" He yelled, pointing at the red lion. Skirmir changed himself, although he was now kneeling.

"You had this… thing attack me. You violated this ancient tradition! The crown is mine!"  
"The crown is still on my head."

Ropan turned, upper lip curling into a snarl, as Caineghis and Giffca were stepping into the circle.

Ropan bared his teeth. "Then I will rip it from your head!" He turned to Skirmir. "You will die soon enough." He turned back to Caineghis and Giffca.

They both roared, and changed. They charged Ropan together. The combined force sent Ropan flying, away from the battle circle, and onto the side of the mountain.

The onlookers watched, but Skirmir yelled out. "Go! Now! Back to Zarzi!" They immediately ran away.

Skirmir wanted to follow, but his wound pained him.

"Easy prince." A familiar voice murmured.

"Ranulf?" Sure enough, the laguz was there, along with Lethe. They both supported him up, but Lethe left to help her sister.

Skirmir pushed Ranulf away, assuring him that he was alright. Ranulf nodded. "Let's get out of here."

Skirmir shook his head. Instead, he walked to the side.

He saw the battle.

Down below, on the steep slope, the three combatants were fighting gloriously.

There! Caineghis had sliced Ropan's chest. Aha! Giffca had thrown the lion at the hard rock. No! Ropan swung his paw, knocking Caineghis away.

It was all a beautiful dance of death, graceful. Caineghis and Giffca moved flawlessly, striking in unison. What they had in speed and coordination, Ropan made up for with his power. Every strike of his pounded the earth and sent his enemies flying.

Ranulf attempted to move Skirmir, but he would not budge.

The fight was so great, the heavens themselves opened up. Rain poured down in fresh intensity, drenching everyone with water and sweat. Thunder boomed.

With no warning, suddenly an awful crack was heard as lightning struck the mountain. Skirmir shielded himself as rocks flew up into the air.

Unfortunately, that also sent a large cascade of boulders towards the fighters.

Skirmir watched desperately.

Ropan roared with triumph as he smashed a paw into Giffca's face. With a howl, Giffca was thrown away.

Caineghis cried out.

In an instant, Giffca was smashed by a boulder, and soon he was buried by the rocks. He and the stones flew down the mountain.

Everyone except Ropan screamed.

Everyone except Ropan was awestruck.

Ropan wasn't; he took that chance.

Ropan roared, and in an instant took another paw, and, claws extended, slashed the neck of Caineghis.

The body fell as the head was sliced off.

Skirmir screamed. "UNCLE!"

Ropan roared in triumph, as he lifted his hand and caught the head.

In a leap, he suddenly jumped back to the top.

The three turned to him.

Ropan stood, wet and bloody, but he walked to Skirmir. He waved the decapitated head of his uncle. "I win." He laughed maniacally.

Skirmir, Ranulf and Lethe were gaping.

Ropan wrapped the head with a bit of cloth, then swelled his chest up. "Pup, this is your goodbye. I am king, and, as king, I expel you. You are weak. Run."

Skirmir stared at the laguz.

And he turned and ran.

On and on, he ran, how far he did not know. All he wanted to do was run away from that murderer.

The place he stopped at was a clearing in the forest. He sighed, and beat his head mercilessly.

He was no lion. He was no laguz. He had run from his enemy, leaving his people to the mercy of his enemy.

Skirmir fell down, exhausted. He sat at a tree, his mind filled with grief.

"Next time, don't go so fast!" Skirmir looked up. Ranulf, Lethe, and Lyre were with him, staring.

Skirmir put his head down again. "Why follow a mouse?" He asked, his voice cracking.

Lethe looked back. "You are no mouse, you are a true king."

Skirmir covered his eyes. "I ran."

Ranulf smiled. "You ran to strike again. At least you didn't start grovelling at his feet."

Lyre was silent. With her hair to one side, you could easily see the ringed scar around her eye.

Skirmir stood up. "You are right. I will not rest until that monster is dead, and Caineghis avenged."

Ranulf laughed. "That's the spirit!"  
Lethe nodded. "I will follow you to the end, mine king."

Lyre frowned. "I will do anything to kill that bastard."

"As will I."

They turned, and in the clearing was Giffca.

His body was beat, and scars all about. His eyes glinted. "I will never stop until his heart stops beating."

Skirmir nodded solemnly. "Let this begin: We will reclaim Gallia!"

**Sorry if the writing started to lack at the end, it was just hard to put it in words when I can so easily see it in my head.**

**R&R!**


	4. Chapter 4

God Of Dusk

**Here it is!**

Chapter 3: Broken Bonds

She often stayed in the garden these days. Whenever the daily council was finished, she would depart to the gardens, for moments of peace and solitude.

Unfortunately, peace was becoming harder to find. The chief of her concerns was the Claw Gang. A massive organization of brutality and murder spread about rebel laguz, lead by the laguz cat Nain Grogero. They were advancing north at an alarming pace, and she feared she would have to trigger a massive alert about the entire length and breadth of the nation. That was what she feared most.

Other than that though, she still had other concerns. Putting down resistance by hordes of unhappy workers, annoying dukes and duchesses proclaiming that their land has grown twice since the Daein war and they want that land, ex cetera ex cetera.

She rubbed her head thoughtfully. Then, she heard something.

There was a flapping sound, and a high pitched yelling.

"Elincia?!!!!! ELINCIA!!!!!!!!!!"

In a flurry, a large white flash descended to the garden, right by her bench. The woman sighed, her eyes on the light fair flowers by her.

The white flash was a large Pegasus, and on it was another woman her age, although much less matured. The woman had short pink hair, bouncing with every shuffle. Her red armour stood out amongst her pale skin, particularly the upper chest, which was why men stood by her door every day, hoping, dreaming she'd ask them inside for a little ride.

Her name was Marcia.

Marcia stopped her winged fellow quickly and jumped off, sweat beads forming on her forehead. She breathed hard. "Elincia….huh…..a message."

Elincia nodded, her hands in a knotted fold on her lap. "And?"

Marcia would have answered has she not started coughing. Elincia laughed, a pleasant sound like bells, and motioned for Marcia to sit on the bench.

Marcia might have refused, but she was too kind to her queen, and she sat down. "A message…… Sir Geoffrey is already conversing with them."

Elincia suddenly sat up. "Geoffrey's back?!"

Marcia left her mouth open, a glint in her eyes, and Elincia remembered her station. She smiled, her cheeks turning a faint red.

Marcia continued. "Anyway, the message is….. and you won't believe this…. The New King of Gallia Ropan I wishes to tell you advice about the Claw Gang."

Refreshments were served at a small table outside the main keep, and Elincia sipped her tea cautiously, her legs crossed and her eyes watching.

On the other side, there sat a large black laguz, looking quite a bit like Giffca. His hair was wild though, and he was drinking to no end.

Elincia cleared her throat. "I welcome you to Melior, our humble home, King Ropan."

The laguz smiled carelessly. "It is a strong little packet of buildings." He laughed boisterously.

Elincia tried her best to smile back, but quickly stopped it as she asked the great question of the day. "What happened with the old king Caineghis? He was still in rule a few days ago."

Ropan smiled again, but this time showing teeth, a fake smile. "He was getting weak, as his heir Skirmir. For the best interests of Gallia, I came into office."

Elincia frowned. "What of Caineghis and Skirmir? What is their state?"

Ropan considered the question, and then shrugged. "Living somewhere else, I suppose."

_Living somewhere else? _Elincia thought of that, but she did not say it. Instead, she waved her arms to him. "Then, welcome King Ropan! I wish that Gallia and Crimea can enjoy partnership and friendship under your rule, as they did under the previous king."

Ropan sighed as he tapped his head. "About that…..I wish to…close all trade lines between us."

Elincia gasped unintentionally. That was preposterous! She regained herself in a moment though, and asked hesitantly, "Why…does Gallia wish that?"

Ropan sighed again. "As new king, I want to take precautions. On that note, I would like to tell you that all trade caravans to Crimea have been stopped, and if you send a caravan over, we will send it back."

Elincia was still shocked, but Ropan continued. "The alliance will stay intact, but only if I judge you good partners."

Elincia might have cracked, but instead sipped her tea again. Something about this laguz made her drop her guard.

Ropan turned and smiled at the queen, a true smile. "I do have good news. About this little trouble with this Claw Gang."

He slid over a packet of paper. "On that map, I have marked their next locations of attack."

Elincia looked at the paper, then grasped it. "Thank you, King Ropan."

Ropan nodded. "I do hope you are worthy of alliance."

Elincia passed the map to Kieran as she walked back to the garden. Kieran looked at it, and then followed her. "Do you think we can trust him?"

Elincia sighed. "I don't know."

In the darkness of his private chambers, Ropan sat at a table, looking straight on at a purple crystal about the size of a vase.

Ropan tapped the hazy crystal angrily until a shape appeared. A tinny voice came on. "Is this Ropan?"

He growled. "Yes, and I have a message. The Crimean army will fall into our ambush."

"Send that to our agent here, Sir Percival."


End file.
